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Previous Entry.. Next Entry.. Potentially Suspicious Behaviour
June 10, 2004 17:29 You always know when you live in a good neighborhood. A good neighborhood is one where the police have the time and manpower to investigate parked cars in public parking lots for no reason other than the fact that they are parked there. So me and a certain important female acquaintance in my life were parked, for all intents and purposes, in a parking lot, next to a park, across from a fire station, at the corner of two moderately busy streets. In fact, there were multiple cars parked in this parking lot, although for all I can determine, they were unoccupied. So we were sitting in the back seat talking, as we've been known to do once or twice in our relationship, when a police car pulls up and proceeds to bathe the van in a glaring spotlight. The police officer cautiously walks up to the side door, which I proceed to open for him and he glances in. The best description of his facial expression would be bewildered. I'm not entirely sure what he was expecting to find in a parked van in a public parking lot in a moderately busy area, but apparently, we weren't it. I suspect he thought he hit the jackpot. Maybe a couple of teenagers, who snuck out late at night with mom's van, possibly to imbibe some adult beverages and get in some acting practice for some future steamy romance movie. He would be able to drag them out. Give them a stern lecture, run them in, have the parents come in and claim them. Witness the debachary that would ensue. That would likely be an exciting night for him. But sadly, whatever fleeting glimpses he might have had of being the crimefighting hero of The Colony for the 21st century, those dreams did not come to fruition. Instead of some teenagers in mom's van, he found Mom. In Mom's van. And me, of course. Two 30 somethings. Both fully clothed. Both clearly sobre. No evidence of prior alochol consumption, or smoking of any kind. Evidence abound of the recent presense of children. And of course, upon our discovery, we're both fully enjoying the experience. He asks for ID, which doesn't make a whole lot of sense except to prove that we actually have some. So we provide it. Naturally, neither of our drivers licenses have our correct addresses, but that's hardly a problem, because we proceed to regale him with the story of our lives for the past year. I tell him about my current roommate issues which lead us to having clandestine conversations in not so remote parking lots, and she tells him about her plight of moving from Greenville to Jacksonville. The whole while, he stands there, staring at the licenses, looking at us, minute by minute you can see that he realizes that he's wasting his time. We, of course, offer to move, if our parking there is a problem, but he can't seem to come up with any reason why we shouldn't be there. He claims that our presence there was suspicious, but beyond that, he really can't say a whole lot. He hands us back our licenses, tells us to be careful (as sitting in parked cars in a parking lot tends to be a hazarous activity), and bids us farewell. So that my story of getting busted for parking. Sorta. At least he was nice about it. :)
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